


Free?

by BSplendens



Category: Basically - Fandom, Medieval stuff, lotr - Fandom
Genre: Avalon that is not how pockets work, Blindness, Fine-ish, He'll be fine though, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lots of bad things, Magic, Medical Care, Medieval medical care, Mutilation, Orcs being horrible, Potions, Slavery, Torture, Unfortunate carthorse minotaur, bad things, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:13:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6891610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BSplendens/pseuds/BSplendens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A half-dead minotaur slave encounters a tiny medic and a large confused alchemist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unchained

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know if I need to add tags. This is going to be fairly unpleasant.

He should... probably be more concerned by the fact that he can't feel the whip on his back. 

Somehow he can't bring himself to be particularly bothered by the lack of pain, though. He'd rather use his few remaining bits of coherence to try and decide if he's actually incapable of getting up, or if he just can't quite bring himself to do so. So he just curls into himself slightly, covers his soft parts as best as possible, and ignores the orc trying to whip him back to his feet.

Ignores it, that is, until the harsh curses are interrupted by a scream of shock and pain and the orc collapses against him. Startled, he instinctively kicks out (it's really more like a twitch) with one chained hoof, then goes still again and strains to hear through the thick leather hood covering most of his head. Now slightly alarmed, he slowly turns his head to the side and tries to hear better, his cropped tail flicking in vague alarm at the sounds of a fight- and, more than that, the sudden scent of burning flesh and a very strange type of fire. 

And then everything goes silent. Far, far too silent. He's tense now, almost trembling, jaws parted slightly and nostrils flared as he tries to get some idea of what's happening. Something has just decimated at least half a dozen orcs in about like thirty seconds, something that snarls angrily and spreads a strange-smelling flame about the area with it, and he can- can  _almost_ hear, but more like feel, something large stomping towards him. 

Despite the size of the warrior, the hands that touch his shoulder are incredibly gentle. And they're far too  _small_ to belong to whatever is still standing behind him, almost small enough to be a child. Is- is that a child? Why is there a child on a battlefield? A flicker of alarm runs through him, then he firmly tamps all the fear back down into his gut, forcing himself to at least seem calm. There's no sense in fighting, they've clearly seen the harnesses. They know what he is, and they have no reason to respect him. He just... has to stay still. Be good. Be a good boy, make them understand that he's already trained, doesn't need any more  _taming_ because he doesn't have many more parts that can be cut off. 

 

"Easy there... easy. We're not gonna hurt you, okay?" the smaller being croons, then two delicate hands lift his head free of the grass, helping him breathe a bit better. "Oh, dear... oh, you poor thing. Here- do you think you can stand? We need to get you to your feet, sweetie, you're too large for either of us to move. There's a river with a waterfall right up ahead, and if we can get you there, we can get you a drink and see about washing this  _filth_ off of you. Come on now- I'm not anywhere near strong enough to lift you, but my companion here is a lot larger than me- he can help you if you can get up at all. Come on, now- do you think you can at least make it to your knees?" 

 

Soft voice. Muffled, yes, but... soft. Worried. And gentle touches, little hands... soft touches.

Yes. For- for this, yes, he can get up.

Hooves sliding on the grass, he gives a muffled grunt of effort, then rolls onto his front, growls again, and pushes himself up to his knees. Head held low and jaws parted slightly, he takes a few heaving breaths, then lets himself be pulled upright by- oh, well, this being is certainly much stronger than the soft-voiced one. Larger, too. Other is small, maybe- maybe only stomach-high by the sound of him. This other isn't quite as large as him, none are, but- maybe chest-height? Powerful, too. Strong. That scares him, but the promise of  _water_ spurs him on, keeping him from just collapsing again. He can  _smell_ it, and he  _wants,_ wants so very badly to bury his muzzle into the river and gulp down as much as he can swallow.

 

"Okay, now... just a bit further. Careful, the ground's softer- there's mud. Just a bit further, now... promise. And... I know you'll wanna drink as much as you can, but you probably shouldn't, you'll just make yourself sick if you do that. So I want you to take a few gulps, and then just stand under the waterfall for me, okay? We'll get all that stuff off you, and then you can drink a bit more. We're not gonna take the water away from you, I promise... you're probably dehydrated, you need water." the smaller being coaxes, then settles a hand very carefully on his arm, rubbing softly and evidently trying to- soothe him?

Strange. 

But he won't fight it. Soft touches. Good. 

 

He doesn't obey the order to not gulp down the water, though. As soon as he's knee-deep in the river, he drops onto all fours, submerges his entire head, and slurps greedily at the cold, clear water. And he can't suppress a groan of pleasure, because the water doesn't just soothe his parched throat, it eases away the pain of the bruises and rubbed-raw spots now covering most of his face and head. Jaws parted as much as possible, he gulps down as much water as he can, then gives a soft whine of disappointment when his head is forcibly pulled from the water. Panting, he weakly tries to get back underwater again, then goes limp in the grasp of the larger being and just silently hopes for mercy. 

And then there are gentle hands on his muzzle, coaxing him forwards, and he blindly obeys- then rears back in shock as a waterfall he can't quite hear gushes down over his head. Sliding a bit on the slick rocks as he jerks away, he flails for a moment to regain his balance- then freezes in horror as he runs into a small, delicate frame. 

No. 

No no  _no_ he knows what that  _means-_

He tries to get away, tries to retreat and cringe into himself and hide, and then- then someone grabs the back of his halter and keeps him still. He's... he's nowhere near strong enough to fight. Going limp in the other's grasp, he ducks his head and just tries to hide his face slightly, trembling all over and expecting punishment but unable to do anything to avoid it. 

He's expecting pain. 

He's not expecting soft little touches to his muzzle. He's absolutely not expecting to be spoken to like a frightened child.

 

"Hey, easy, easy- it's okay. I'm sorry I startled you- I guess you can't hear very well at all, huh? Look, it's- it's okay, sweetie, I'm not angry. I'm fine, you just startled me. And- okay, I'm all wet, but oh well. It's fine. Here, just... stand there for a minute, okay? Just... right here. Couple steps forwards, okay? Easy, now... just stand under here and get cleaned off, you're  _filthy._ I've never seen someone with this much  _sweat_ caked onto them. Guess the fur doesn't help at all, though, does it?" 

And the smaller being just keeps  _talking,_ and those delicate hands keep pulling him forwards until he's under the waterfall, and then those hands are reaching around to the back of his head and the long-rusted buckles and tight knots start to give way under nimble fingers.

 

And then the hood is pulled free and cold water gushes down over his face. Snorting at the sensation, he shakes his head for just a moment, then stills again as those tiny hands trace over his horn bases. The stumps of sliced-off ears swivel around as stronger hands touch near his back, but this time he doesn't move at all, just staying perfectly still and hoping it might be taken for enough obedience to warrant the removal of a few more straps. Because the hood has been in place for  _months_ now, and it feels so  _good_ to have it off, and he groans again and tilts his head back to get the water to run down his neck. 

 

"I bet that feels pretty good, huh? And... hey, you  _are_ a minotaur, aren't you? Couldn't really tell with that thing on you, but you do -uh, I guess did- have horns. Here, uh... let's see your ears. Hmh- rough cuts, but clean, at least. We can probably make you some sort of passable replacement, at least... maybe something out of leather. Can you move your ears?" the gentle being croons, then hums in approval when he carefully swivels them. "Oh, good. Yeah, we- we should be able to do something to help you hear a bit better. Now... oh, dear, your eyes are in bad shape, aren't they? So... I'm just going to try to open one, see if I can- ohh dear." 

 

He knows his eyes are bad. Opening them hurts, as does someone prying one open -however gently-, and it feels... unpleasant... to keep them open. Also, he can't see. No colors, no shapes, not even light. His eye might as well be shut. He doesn't pull away from the discomfort, though, he... can't. Those little hands are so  _gentle,_ he can't- he  _wants_ , wants more. 

And then the cold steel of a knife-back slides up his spine, several thick leather straps part like threads under an extremely sharp blade, and quite a lot of weight falls away from his frame. Some of it is entwined with the chains between his wrists, but it's not on  _him_ any more.  _Why?_ Don't they- they need that to hitch him to something. And if- if that's not their intent, then- 

Then what can they  _possibly_ want from him? Raising his head slightly, he scents at the air in a blind attempt to understand, then cringes when a hand presses on his lower back. What, exactly, is... does that mean... 

Oh. 

No. 

What's left of his tail tucks up between his legs as much as possible and he whines softly in alarm, trying to press forwards and edge away from the person behind him. It... does not work. Mostly because he runs snout-first into the stone behind the waterfall, dazes himself, and ends up just pressed against the cold stone and cringing into himself as much as possible in an attempt to quietly avoid the powerful hands on his back. No. No, he doesn't want that. Please, no, don't- 

It doesn't work. At least- it doesn't work until delicate little hands settle onto his jawline, when the smaller of his two captors evidently notices his unease. 

 

"Hey, easy... okay, Avalon, you're scaring him. Back up a bit, okay? Uh- easy, now, okay? Avalon's not gonna hurt you, but he's... not always great with nervous people. Or... people in general. Here, I'll tell you what... how about you put your back to the wall and just lean down some? That way Avalon can get those manacles off of you, you can feel a little bit safer, and I can clean your face off. And then maybe the rest of you, but I think most of you probably needs some soaking before I'll be able to help much. You're... quite filthy. And a bit bloody, poor dear." the small being sighs, then croons approvingly when he obeys and turns around. "There you go, that's it. Now... can you tell me your name, maybe? Or- no, hang on, what- oh,  _what_ is- is that a wire halter? Oh, what the  _hell._ Okay, I'm- I'm gonna get that off you, and  _then_ I'm gonna get your face cleaned off. And do you think you might be able to tell me your name after I get this out of your mouth? It's okay if you can't talk or just really don't want to, it's perfectly fine, but... I'd like to know what your name is. And it'd be helpful if I knew how long you've been wearing this nasty thing, it's... probably infected at this point." 

 

_Trick._

Opening his mouth just enough to let the wire be pulled free, he shuts his eyes tighter, clamps down what's left of his ears, and does his best not to move. He's not allowed to talk. No one wants to hear him speak. Just- just an excuse to hurt him.  _No._

And then the wire pulls free of its dug-in places, a spike of pain runs through his entire head, and that nasty little thing is  _gone._ Genuinely surprised -he wasn't expecting it to actually come off- he leans his head back slightly, then clamps his remaining teeth at the taste of his own blood. The gouges left by the wire are free of obstruction now, which frees them to start bleeding again, but the crudely rigged bit that's been tearing open the inside of his mouth for  _months_ now is gone. And he... can't understand why, unless they intend to replace it with something else, but... but he can't complain, that nasty thing is  _gone_ and maybe now he can have a chance at eating enough to keep himself from collapsing. Once he gets the blood out of his mouth. Rumbling unhappily, he shakes his head slightly and attempts to spit the blood out, though it doesn't particularly work. Much to his surprise, though, the small being immediately wipes the blood away from his face, then very gently touches his chin. 

 

"Okay, now... can you open your mouth and let me see? I promise I'm not going to shove a bit or anything into your mouth, I just want to see how badly you're injured. Open up?" the small being croons, then hums softly and takes his head in both hands when he obeys. "Good... that's it. Just keep your mouth open for a minute, let me see. Now... clearly the corners of your mouth are pretty torn up, but it looks like some of that is starting to heal fairly well, and- ah, good. Your tongue looks more bruised than cut, which... okay, that's not so good, but it could be worse. Roof of your mouth is a bit beat up, but okay, and... well, I'm not actually certain what minotaur teeth are supposed to look like, but this can't be right. Oh, wait, did they- oh, that is just- come on now. Yeah, ah... your gums are really torn up where that bit was, and that looks like where the worst of the blood is coming from. Uh- here, I'll tell you what. Tilt your head, keep your mouth open, and get those spots rinsed off. And don't swallow." 

 

Glad to have the taste out of his mouth, he obeys, tilting his head to the side so that some of the water runs through his mouth on its way down. He's not at all surprised that his mouth is in bad shape... why wouldn't it be? Many of his teeth have been removed, either to prevent biting or as punishment for something, and none of them were removed carefully. In particular, two of his back molars have been pulled out so he can't bite down on the bit. Thanks to how the orcs tied the wire halter in place around his lower jaw, it's been digging into his gums, tongue, and chin at every twitch of the reins. It's much of the reason why he hasn't been able to eat enough- he tries to grab bites every time they stop, but he can't eat quickly with his tongue held down and wire tearing his mouth up. If... if these people are going to give him a chance not to have that happening, he might be able to get a proper meal for once. The small one, at least, does seem concerned about the state of his mouth. Maybe they have a different halter in mind, something like what horses wear? Because those usually look at least a little bit soft. That- that might not be so bad. 

 

"Okay... now let me see? Good, there we go. That's a bit cleaner. Okay... think you'll be alright. Avalon has something that should be able to help you with this... actually, he has a lot of things. He's an alchemist, and he's practically got a library tucked under his coat, so we can probably do something about most of your injuries. Gonna have to get everything cleaned off, so you have to stand here for a little bit longer, but as soon as you're cleaned off we can-" 

 

He's not certain what the rest of that sentence was supposed to be. Mostly because he interrupts it with a coughing fit that just about doubles him over and causes him to once again knock the smaller being down. Whining in a combination of apology and distress, he shakes his head for a moment, then chokes and coughs up a mouthful of water that he's just inhaled in his attempts to keep breathing. Awkwardly raising his hands (hasn't been able to do this in quite a long time), he carefully shields his muzzle from the water, trying not to drown himself. That might become very difficult in a hurry, though, as his legs are still very uncooperative. Now very concerned about drowning, he whines softly and blindly attempts to head for shore, though he really just ends up running into the odd-smelling being who's just finished unchaining his hooves. Freezing up again in expectation of some sort of punishment, he goes still and turns his head away from both of them, then shivers when a small hand touches his arm.

 

"Oh, that sounded bad. Let's get you out of the water, okay? We can't stick around, there are already vultures and those dead orcs are gonna bring more scavengers, plus they're gonna start smelling pretty soon. So we're going to walk over to the opposite bank, and then we're going to climb out and head the other way. It's not too far, don't worry. We've got some supplies stashed back where we first saw you, and there's lovely soft grass up that way. I'm... honestly, I'm not sure what minotaurs eat, but I'm guessing by these teeth that you're probably omnivores? And that seems like a good soft meal for you until your gums heal up a bit, some nice meadow grass. Or- oatmeal, maybe? You shouldn't have anything too rich, it'll upset your stomach and can actually make you really sick, but... hm, you have some sharp teeth, how would you feel about some kind of broth? We set up a deer-sized deadfall trap, and if we're lucky, we'll get something tonight." 

 

One ear-stump swiveled to the side in an attempt to hear better, he very carefully follows the sound of that quiet little voice, then goes still again when he steps out onto the bank. He has no idea what's around him. There are clearly reeds around his legs, but further than that, he can't tell. His hearing isn't anywhere near acute enough to let him figure this out that way, and all his sense of smell can tell him is that there's a forest nearby. If he starts walking, he's probably going to fall into a hole or run into things. So they're... going to need some way to guide him, aren't they? Which means a new halter. Obediently dropping onto his knees, he lowers his head and lets his jaws go slack, mentally distancing himself in an effort to avoid the initial pain of having a bit shoved against his damaged gums. Much to his surprise, though, there's... there's no halter in the delicate hands that rest on the sides of his head. 

 

"Hey, no, I'm not going to- no. We aren't putting a halter or anything like that on you. Here, just... get back up. I'm going to take one of your hands, and Avalon is gonna take the other, and we're gonna help you not run into things. We'll figure out something a bit better when you're healed up, but right now, we need to get you somewhere you can sit down and get a good meal. And then we'll see about patching you up, and- I'm gonna need to listen to your lungs for a bit, see if I can figure out what's wrong. My guess is maybe pneumonia, which is bad, but we can do something about that, okay? I know you probably feel really bad right now, but you'll be okay- I promise. You're gonna be okay." 

 

He doesn't believe that. He doesn't believe it at all. The... the guidance is good, though. And he actually likes this, likes being shown where to go without having a bit painfully rubbing over his gums, but it... it can't last. They want him for  _something,_ clearly, and he's afraid of what that might be. Because he... can't think of anything that will go well for him. 

This... isn't so bad right now, at least. It honestly makes him want to push his face into those delicate little hands and just... sit. Maybe he can... do that? Yes? 

And then he's distracted when he steps into an open-sounding space and the scent of crushed grass reaches his nostrils. Oh. Oh, that's- that smells  _good,_ and no force on the planet can stop him from dropping to his knees and then just flopping down on his side, muzzle buried deep in the long grass. He immediately regrets it, convinced that he's about to be dragged to his feet or beaten until he staggers back upright- and then the smaller of the two beings chuckles, sits down next to him, and places a hand just behind his ear. 

 

"Oh, you don't wanna move? That's okay, we're close. Here- I'm just going to sit next to you, alright? And- Avalon, could you go and get those supplies, please? I'll be fine, and they're within shouting distance anyway. Go ahead and eat, just- only what you can reach, alright? And after you've gotten a bit, I need to listen to your lungs, maybe your stomach too." the small being hums, very gently rubbing at the base of his ear as he starts eating. "Let me know if you'd like me to move my hand or anything, I'm just... trying to help you calm down a bit. You seem really nervous, but you don't need to be... promise. We won't hurt you." 

 

Uncertain, he slowly opens one eye and stares up at the small being- though it does him absolutely no good, of course. Closing his eye to avoid the discomfort, he relaxes into the soft grass for a moment, then props himself up just slightly so he can start snatching up mouthfuls of the wonderfully sweet grass. Rumbling softly in satisfaction, he carefully gathers a mouthful of the grass, then settles down to chew it at his leisure. He doesn't want to bite down too hard or chew too fast, and the slow chewing is normal for his kind anyway- they tend to very thoroughly chew any sort of foliage, to help them digest it as much as possible. And also, mm, to savor the taste. Oh, this is- this is so much better than snatching and attempting to gulp down any foliage within reach. He can actually take his time, and this tastes  _good,_ and his tongue is free and he can actually swallow without a bit in the way. 

 

 

 

Once he's gotten all the grass within easy reach of his teeth, he's starting to feel much better. Rolling onto his back, he grumbles softly in satisfaction, then turns his head slightly when the small being sets a hand on his chest. Laying still and quiet as the other being climbs halfway on top of him, he lifts his head slightly to scent lightly at the medic, a bit confused and slightly concerned about being climbed on. It's not anywhere all that private, but... this is a bit odd. What, exactly...

 

"Need you to take a few deep breaths, okay? Gonna try to figure out what's wrong." the medic explains, pressing an ear lightly to his chest, then hisses slightly when he obliges. "Ooh. Those are bad sounds." he mutters, then repeats the hiss when he listens to the other lung. "Yeah, that's- okay, you definitely have pneumonia." he sighs, though he seems to perk up slightly after a moment or two of listening to his (patient? Captive?)'s stomach. "This is better, though. Your stomach's making about the right sounds, I think. Bit odd, but regular, so I think this is normal for your kind? Hm, I need to find another minotaur and check." he chuckles, then moves up to lean very gently on the minotaur's side, his voice soft and gentle. "Hey, do you think you can tell me your name? Do you... even remember? Because these are some old scars... how old were you when they caught you?" 

 

He can't speak. Doesn't want to try, either. Head slowly lolling to the side, he relaxes into the grass and against the small medic, jaws parting slightly in a groan of satisfaction as the cool grass soothes his wounds. Oh, this... absolutely helps. 

The question doesn't, though. Because he doesn't know how long it's been, but it's been... a very long time. Long time. Hard to tell how long without light or any real schedule, but... years. 

And... his name? He hasn't... hasn't heard his own name in a very long time. Does he... remember? 

_I do._

_And I need to learn yours. I like you._

_But... my name. I need to remember mine._

_Vachel. My name is Vachel._

_Not... not Cart-horse or Slave or Ox or Beast, or anything they called me._

_Vachel._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using the fictional idea of alchemy here. It's a combination of chemistry and magic, which allows for things that are not technically possible. I'm not going for anything too wild, though, no "oh look I took a sip of this potion and now all my wounds are healed, I'm three inches taller, and I exude sexy pheromones" stuff.

He very nearly falls asleep. He's snuggled into soft meadow grass, he actually has something fairly substantial in his stomach for once, and he's not chained or muzzled or restrained in any way. He just about coughs his lungs up every now and then, but other than that and what's starting to feel like a fever, he's more comfortable than he's been in... years. He'd like to sleep. Nearly does.

And then there's someone large standing next to his head. Slightly alarmed, he raises his head and scents at the air- which does not clear anything up. This being smells like smoke, fire, herbs, and-  _dragon?_ No, not- not a live dragon. Dead. Scales. Hide? Yes. Hide. Maybe for a coat. The rest, though... what  _is_ that? Smells like the fire that killed the orcs, and- and just a bit of blasting powder? What... is that? 

Oh. The little one called this one an... alchemist? He's heard that word before. It means... potion-maker, doesn't it? 

 

"Alright, now... Avalon's back. And- you can relax, okay? He's not gonna hurt you. Just... relax. Tilt your head, open your mouth, and... can you let me see your gums again? Avalon has something that'll help. I don't think we can grow your teeth back, but we should be able to heal those gums a bit. Oh- Avalon, he's got pneumonia, don't- don't you have a recipe for that?" 

An affirmative-sounding thrum is the only response, then Avalon crouches and lightly sets a hand on the side of his head, evidently inspecting him. It's... surprisingly gentle, especially considering the fact that this being is quite large and wearing thick gloves. 

 

He's expecting something to happen, probably not something pleasant. Nevertheless, he can't help tilting his head slightly into the touches, curious and trying to get a better sense of what this being might intend to do. When he does, powerful fingers rub carefully at the back of his skull and around his horn base, and it feels... good. Very good. Surprised, he rumbles softly in return and tilts his head a bit further up, hooves skidding slightly as he attempts to push himself against the powerful hands. Much to his delight, Avalon gently cradles his head in both hands, rubbing behind his lower jaw and around his horn bases. It feels... surprisingly good, but he's... he's a bit concerned. Why? Is this... something to do with... another halter? Because that concerns him, except that he's going to end up with a halter eventually, and if- if this is an attempt to figure out how to get it to fit, he can't exactly complain. So he leans up and croons softly and lets himself be stroked, and- and then the other one is touching him. Gently. 

 

"Okay, now... I'm going to see if I can pour this over your gums without getting it too far onto anywhere else. It's not  _bad_ for the rest of you, but it makes things go numb. So just... keep your mouth open and show your teeth as much as you can, please." the little medic coaxes, and, surprisingly, doesn't seem at all intimidated when he obliges. "There you go, like that. Now... Avalon's just gonna hold your head still for me, okay? He's gonna be gentle, and we're not gonna hurt you at all. It's just so you don't accidentally twitch away or pull your head back, alright? He can let go as soon as I'm done, or, if you get upset at all, he can let go early." 

 

Okay. He... won't complain about this. He doesn't mind having his head gripped like this, it doesn't hurt. He doesn't end up needing it, though, he keeps himself perfectly still the entire time. Mostly because it feels  _good._ His (bleeding) gums are slowly going numb, and the taste of blood is going away, so evidently it's clotting. That's... that's good. 

But-  _what_ is that smell? There is something very strange about Avalon's scent, something he can't quite identify, and- he's really not sure, he can't quite tell, but there seems to be something a bit strange about Avalon's lungs. A... whistling. Very soft, he's not even certain it's coming from Avalon's direction, but- yes, that- that is definitely a noise. A... weird noise. It... might not be audible to the others, though, and- is that a concern? It seems like a concern. 

As soon as Avalon lets go of his head, he pushes himself up slightly and attempts to raise a hand and indicate the being in front of him. He just ends up shoving his face into Avalon's chest. Oops. It does, uh... communicate his concern, though. 

 

"Oh, you're- can you hear that? No, Avalon's not sick or anything. Long story, but somebody messed with his lungs. I... can't hear that unless I'm really trying, and he can't unless he's focused, so- huh, your hearing must be pretty good even without your ears. I'm impressed. Now... let's see about your face. I've got something here that Avalon came up with, and I... really don't know how it works, but it's really good for cleaning and closing smaller wounds. So can you just tilt your head slightly so it'll run off? I'm gonna pour this over your entire face, probably the best thing to do. And, uh... this won't hurt, but it's gonna be really, really cold for a minute. Which is why I'm not pouring it over the rest of you." 

 

How... exactly... would someone "mess with his lungs" in a way that changes the sound of his breathing without just killing him? Confused, he tilts his head as ordered and goes still again, then  _squeaks_ when his face is doused in something that Milu is evidently holding. And it is  _cold,_ as cold as if he were to shove his head through an ice-fishing hole, and how can something possibly be that cold when there's no ice anywhere? Yelping in shock, he skitters backwards and shakes his head, instinctively bringing his hands up to cover his face- then gives a confused little whine at the sensation of  _frost_ on his hands. It melts in an instant, though, and the cold eases quickly after it. And when the cold is gone, so is his pain. A careful touch to one of the formerly sore spots, and his hand comes away clean. He's not bleeding anywhere, the skin isn't raw... it feels like he's had at least a week to heal. That's... oh. Wow. It... even seems to have slightly eased some of the bruising, though not anywhere near as much as the cuts. 

Beyond confused, he turns towards Milu (probably, he really can't tell where they are), aiming the most bewildered expression he can manage without the use of his ears or eyes.  _What._

 

"There... that should be a lot better. I'd like to use this in a few other spots, but I don't think it'd be at all good for you, the cold isn't good for pneumonia. Plus, I don't think we have enough for all of you. Now... c'mere. Avalon has something that should help you with that coughing, but, uh, gonna be honest... it's apparently gonna taste vile. If I'm... reading these gestures right. Yeah, I'm right. You, uh... want me to try and pour it down your throat without you tasting it?" 

 

No, he does not want that. But he'll accept it. 

Until he gets a whiff of the substance he's evidently supposed to drink. Oh, that is- that is  _foul._ No, he is not about to drink that. Probably make him throw up the first good meal he's had all year.. Huffing softly, he slowly curls into himself and covers his mouth, rumbling quietly and trying to figure out how much of a fight he wants to put up. He needs to figure out how much he needs to struggle to make them stop, without getting himself chained up again. There might not be a line there, but he... really needs to try to find it. Because he is  _not_ going to drink that, it smells  _disgusting_ and there is  _no_ way that's not poison. No. 

 

"...yeah, I don't blame you. But... look. I'm sorry you don't want to, and your suspicions are understandable, but you need to drink this. Pneumonia is bad enough in healthy people, and you're half-starved and exhausted. I'm- I'm gonna be honest here. If we don't catch this now, you  _will_ die. And yeah, this tastes bad. I've had it myself, I know how it tastes. But it's either this or  _die,_ and nothing in the world tastes  _that_ bad. C'mon, now... just drink it. I'll give you some more water if you do..." the small being coaxes, ever-so-softly, then loudly edges a bit closer to him. "Do you think you can hold this without dropping it? Bottle's kinda tiny compared to you." 

 

_...well, when you put it like **that...**_

Slowly, cautiously, he edges a bit closer and scents at the vile-smelling bottle, then very reluctantly opens his mouth. No. He can't hold the bottle. Can barely hold anything. 

At least he knows how to do this. He's had vile concoctions poured down his throat before, he knows the drill. 

Except that Milu doesn't grab his face. One delicate hand rests on his chin and tilts his head back, the other very gently pressing the bottle to his mouth, and-  _oh_ that is  _vile_ but the grip on his jaw stays gentle, even when he can't help pulling back. And then the bottle is gone and he's left to shake his head and growl at the taste, and... yeah, that's- that's not worth dying over. He's still going to rip up a mouthful of grass and chew on it and try to get the vileness off of his tongue, but that... wasn't anywhere near as bad as he expected. It's a lot easier to choke down unpleasant things when no one is holding him down or  _forcing_ him to do it. He still has no choice, really, but it... helps. 

Still tasted horrific. 

_Ew. I... probably don't want to know what was in that._

 

"I'm sorry, I know that's nasty, but you're done now. Just, uh- might wanna move a bit or you're gonna end up eating dirt. That, uh, heh, probably tastes better than what you just drank, but it might not be great for your stomach. And, uh... just occurred to me that you might not have put that nose ring in yourself. D'you... want that gone?" 

 

Nose ring? Pausing, he shakes his head slightly, then snorts as he's reminded of the metal ring through the bit of cartilage between his nostrils. Oh, he'd... forgotten about that. Hasn't been much of a concern lately compared to everything else. But... yeah. He'd like that gone. Shaking his head in complaint once more, he growls to himself and rubs at his mouth with one hand, then nods slightly and leans towards the tiny helpful person. Yes. He'd like the ring out, please, he isn't a bull. (Okay, technically he is a bull, but not the dumb four-legged kind.)

Or not towards, because those little hands are on the side of his neck now. 

Oh. Right. He has no idea where anyone is. Especially Avalon, he can't even figure out where Avalon is aside from "somewhere approximately to the left". Ear stumps swiveling rapidly as he tries to pinpoint the other's location, he whines nervously and stares around, then flinches at the sudden scent of flame. Why- why are they lighting a fire? That's dangerous, this- this is a field. Fields  _burn._ Why- why are they- 

 

"Easy. It's okay, Avalon has a fire pit. The fire's not going anywhere it doesn't need to go. Now... you're gonna fall asleep pretty soon, I think. That stuff is gonna make you sleep through the worst of it while you're fighting the pneumonia. And I really don't want you to wake up scared, so- here. I'm going to come and sit right next to you, and you can get me all figured out. And I'll talk while you do, if you want. So... c'mere. It's alright, you can touch." 

And then the little medic is sitting so close they're almost touching, and he doesn't smell scared at all. 

 

Very slowly, he reaches towards the small being, then ever-so-gently pulls him a bit closer. After a moment or two, he lowers his head and scents lightly at the medic, then presses closer at an encouraging little hum. Oh, this is... this is okay for him to do? 

He doesn't know how to inspect someone like this. He's never tried, never really been given the chance to... to inspect someone like this. First he didn't need to, and then he didn't have any choice. So his touches are awkward and a bit clumsy, but it helps that the small being stays still and doesn't seem- doesn't seem at all bothered, really. It... helps. A lot. Makes it easier for him to build himself a mental image of the medic. 

 _Small._ So small. Feels delicate. Soft skin, but with light scars up his side and back that make Vachel want to hurt something for this. Delicate little hands, pretty much no muscle, and the most slender frame he's ever found in another adult. Glasses that are knocked askew by an accidental sniff and then replaced by the aforementioned delicate hands. Shortish hair that sticks up in all directions, no apparent objections to having his face touched, and... hm. No hint of any motive of, well, anything. Interesting. 

 

"So my name's Milu, if you weren't really able to hear earlier. I'm... I doubt the number would mean anything to you, so I'm what's considered to be a young adult. I do know what I'm doing, though, I'm a pretty good doctor. And- okay, you can touch my back if you want to, just be gentle, please? Had a run-in with some rather unpleasant goblins, and I-I have some whip scars there. No, it's- it's alright to touch if you want to, just gently. Actually- I'd prefer you just be gentle with me all the time, I'm... I'm pretty small for a grown human and a lot smaller compared to you. I'm... done growing, I just didn't really get very big. And- those things on my face are my glasses. I need those, can't see very well without them." Milu chuckles, then laughs at another sniffing. "Tickles. What- what're you up to, huh? What do I smell like? Probably the inside of Avalon's coat, I bet." 

 

Glad for the opportunity to learn, he scents gently at Milu's (needs to remember that name) front, then gently lets go. Mostly. He still keeps one hand very gently on the medic's, just trying to keep track of where Milu is. He needs to know. For now, though, he'll sit here and just quietly inhale near the delicate little hand in his, try to unravel the network of scents. Yes, definitely some of the scent that hangs around Avalon, but... other things. Milu smells  _little,_ and- not very much like a male. Not much like what he's used to, at least. Maybe small, friendly humans smell different than larger, boisterous, aggressive members of other species. And there's... many other scents, most of them related to herbs, one of them his own blood, but there's- hm. Something is tucked under those other smells, something that intrigues him. He can't quite pin it down, though. 

And then his attention is caught by something else. Avalon. Standing right next to him. Jerking his head around in a startled effort to locate the potential threat, he rams his muzzle hard into what feels suspiciously like someone's crotch, then inhales and- yep. He's just buried his snout in Avalon's groin. That is... hm. 

Uh oh. 

Left with no idea what to do, the minotaur just trembles and does his best not to move, desperately hoping that he hasn't just- just given permission to- 

 

"Easy, now... easy. It's alright. Here, just... lean back, move your head out of the way. C'mon. Ah- there we go. You're fine, see? It's alright, you just accidentally bumped him. Nobody's gonna do anything." Milu coaxes, very gently tugging on his head until he no longer has his face shoved into any part of Avalon, then settles a hand on the back of his neck and rubs gently. "It's okay. He looks a bit startled, but that's all. Avalon's not gonna hurt you, okay? Now... here. Avalon, come let him figure you out a bit." 

 

No. No, thank you, he doesn't need to- 

He'd really rather not grab at whatever Avalon is, actually, or touch him anywhere or let himself be- 

But Milu is touching his hand, very gently, coaxing him, and he doesn't want to fight the tiny medic. So he obeys, slowly reaches out, and- huffs in shock when his fingertips come into contact with warm glass. Now suddenly very intrigued, he slowly brings his hand forwards, then presses his hand firmly against Avalon's back. What... is... 

Suddenly far too intrigued to be frightened, he leans forwards and places both of his hands on the other being, then brings them up and carefully touches the edges of- 

There are four glass cylinders protruding from Avalon's upper back, wide enough that he can't fit one hand around them, and they're warm. And Avalon's jacket is clearly dragon hide, it's covered in scales, and ohhh there is a lot of power in this being's frame. Slightly alarmed, he twitches back and takes his hands off of Avalon's shoulders, then tenses when a hand wraps around his wrist. Apparently Avalon would like him to finish his inspection, and he's... not about to disobey. 

It doesn't help anything, though. Being allowed to inspect Milu helped calm him, because it made  _sense._ But this... this doesn't... 

Avalon is built, as the saying goes, like a brick outhouse. That's hardly a surprise, but confirming it just makes him even more uneasy. And not only are there glass cylinders seemingly mounted on his back, Avalon is wearing goggles and some sort of  _muzzle,_ something that he isn't apparently all that inclined to remove, and he's- 

He's entirely too still. Milu held still, yes, but Avalon is... not moving. At all. 

Significantly creeped out, Vachel carefully pushes himself up onto his knees in order to back away from Avalon, far enough that he can bury himself in long grass for some tiny resemblance of security. He... doesn't like this. Doesn't like Avalon, not at all. 

 

"Uh... okay then. Hey, big guy, I'm just... gonna come around behind you, okay? I'm gonna sit right behind your shoulders, I'll just put my hand riiiight here, and... now I'm gonna look you over, okay? You have a lot of injuries that need treatment, so I'm going to work on that. I have some ointment here that will help things heal up, so I'm just going to work my way down your back and around your frame, okay? I won't hurt you, I promise. And- hey, if you get uncomfortable,  _tell me._ I don't want to upset you." Milu croons, carefully settling a hand on his shoulder and placing another just above a painful spot on his spine. "Looks like these are mostly pressure sores, so that's mostly good. I know they hurt, and I'm sorry, but they aren't too deep and should heal up well. Ah- well, okay, I've seen some horses who had pressure sores before, and sometimes the hair grows back white. That might happen, but other than that, you shouldn't have any permanent damage from most of this. I'm just gonna put some ointment on the worst ones, and I'm sure they'll start healing a lot faster without all those straps rubbing on them. Now, I'm... just gonna rub your back in a few spots while I'm doing that, okay? You're really tense, I wanna see if I can help you stay a bit calmer."

 

Okay. That... isn't actually that bad. Or... bad. At all. He's being treated gently, and- and there is a delicate hand rubbing softly along his spine, carefully easing away the tension. A soft rumble escapes him before he can stop it, a quiet sound of approval, then he slowly relaxes against the grass again. Oh. He... he  _likes_ this. Ears lowering, he snuggles his face against the grass, then idly grabs a mouthful to chew on. He likes meadow grass, especially when it's this long and hasn't been trodden on, and he doesn't usually get any. So he just relaxes, lets himself be treated, and- 

Goes tense again very quickly when he feels a hand on his lower back. That is- not something he- there's- 

Bad spot. Bad. Means bad things. Means he's- he's going to- 

 

"Oh, hey... is this a bit too low? I'm sorry." Milu whispers, immediately moving both hands higher on his back, then lightly pats one spot. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. It's okay, I'm- I'm not going to do anything. I'm just trying to treat some of these marks, okay? Or- tell you what, these are all pretty light. I'll leave your haunches alone, okay? But- may I touch your tail, just to get a look at the cut part? I'd just like to see if it's healing well. May I do that?" he asks, then croons approvingly and very gently takes Vachel's tail into one hand when he nods. "Okay, thank you. Now... this needs to be protected. I'm going to just wrap a thin bit of bandage around your tail to cover the cut part, alright? Help keep it clean. Ah- there. Got it. Now, I'm... going to leave this area of you alone. Instead, I'm going to put my hand right here, over your hip, and I'm going to move a bit further down. Your legs are a bit beaten up, and I especially want to get a look at the marks around your ankles. So I'm just going to keep my hand right here, so you have some idea of where I am, and I'm going to move down to right behind your knees. I don't want to get too close to your hooves, though, so I'm just going to press myself in sorta close- like this. It's not that I don't trust you, I'm just a bit concerned that you might reflexively lash out and get me. If I'm right up behind your knees, though, I shouldn't have to worry about that. I know this is a little bit personal, and I'm sorry, but I'd really rather not have you kick me. You're very strong, and I'm fragile. Okay?" 

 

That's... that's fine,  yes. Someone settled up against the backs of his knees is okay. Doesn't hurt. Bit closer to certain parts than he would really prefer, but it's... it's not that bad. Doesn't...  _scare_ him. It's just a bit... hm. 

After a minute to adjust, he slowly shifts just a bit, then moves one leg so that his bruised ankle is resting in Milu's lap. There. He's just- just offering easier access to himself. That's okay. Doesn't frighten him. Does  _not_ frighten him. And he is just going to keep repeating that to himself, help keep himself calm. He's fine. He's not scared. He's not at all scared. And he is not going to reflexively lash out and hurt Milu, he is not. He will NOT. He LIKES Milu and will not hurt him. Ever. 

Because those hands are so  _gentle_ and Milu is just lightly inspecting his leg and caressing the bruises and- 

It- it feels  _good._

Confused, he raises his head and stares in Milu's direction, then snorts very softly and lowers his head again. Thrumming softly in confusion, he slowly takes another bite of grass, then flinches slightly at a sudden stab of pain. And he can't quite keep himself from moving, but he doesn't kick Milu, he just- sort of kicks out at the air, and then immediately goes limp in an attempt to escape punishment. No. No, please. He's sorry. He- he didn't mean to- 

 

"Easy, easy. It's okay, I'm- I'm not mad. I'm sorry, I know that hurt... there's a big patch of skin just scraped right off of this spot. Looks like it used to be a blister. Now, I'm just... gonna coat this entire section of your leg in ointment, basically. And it's okay if you end up kicking out again, alright? It's okay. You'll just hit air. I want you to do whatever helps you, sweetie." Milu croons, then slathers a liberal handful of the tangy-smelling ointment all over Vachel's lower leg, soothing away the pain. "There we go. That's a bit better, hmm? Just, uh- gimme your other leg for a minute? There we go. We'll leave those open for awhile, though we might have to end up wrapping some of those spots up later if you keep knocking against them. Now, uh... I'm gonna check your hooves, all right? Just... hold still for this, okay? Please don't kick me. Your hooves are big and I am fragile. And- oh. That's, uh... this is not good. There is a nail in your hoof. It... doesn't  _look_ like it's in anything important? I'm not a farrier, though. That's, uh- someone who works with hooves, if minotaurs don't usually use that word. Usually they only work with horses, but I think we might be able to find someone who works with oxen and would be able to help you. But- but how did this even happen? Did- did they try to put horseshoes on you?" 

 

Yes. They did, in fact, try to put horseshoes on him, heavy ones intended to tire him out and keep him from kicking. It did not work, for multiple reasons, but one nail did get in deep. It didn't usually hurt, but he could feel it, somewhat near the edge of his hoof but not close enough that it could be pried out without too much worry. He... did need somebody with at least some amount of expertise. Preferably someone who could be gentle with him. It's really too bad that Milu doesn't know how to help... those tiny hands are so  _gentle,_ even as they press gently around all the sore spots, and it- he actually- he  _likes_ the touches. He absolutely likes them. 

So, when Milu pulls back and stops touching him, he slowly rolls over and very cautiously reaches in the little human's direction. He keeps himself as low to the ground as possible, trying his best to keep from looking like he's attacking Milu, but he just- he really, eally wants to get closer. Please. Just- more touches without malicious intent,  _please?_ He wants more. 

 

"Oh, hey... you- you want me to-" pausing, Milu edges a bit closer and rests a hand gently on the minotaur's shoulder, then hums very softly to him and presses close again. "Aw... oh, of course, I'll stay. Here- what would you like me to do? I- I don't really know how physically affectionate minotaurs tend to be, but if you want me to, maybe, pet behind your ears or something, I'm willing. Just... whatever you're comfortable with is f- oof." 

Caught off guard by the large head abruptly shoved into his chest, Milu just about toppled over backwards, then chuckled, edged closer, and just gently leaned on the minotaur. "There we go. I'll just... rub the spots that aren't damaged, okay? Uh- most of your face isn't in great shape, so... how about... is it OK if I rub your chest? Your front is in pretty good shape, looks like. I... guess they probably couldn't really reach your front so well, huh? Poor thing. Here, just... let me know what you'd like, okay? I'll be gentle, I-I won't push, but... looks like you need some attention." 

 

Yes. Rumbling very, very softly, he nuzzles gently against Milu, a soft trill escaping him as he... just... kind of...

He's vaguely aware of Avalon coming up behind him, and he tries to respond, he does, but he- well- 

He can't manage to lift his head. And when he tries again, he... 

Everything is already black, of course, but somehow everything goes even darker and silent, and his awareness starts to dim. 

His last impression is of powerful hands on his side, tracing carefully over painful sores, and then everything just... stops. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the chapter I totally forgot to post. We'll see what happens from here.

He doesn't wake up for a long time. 

At least, he's fairly sure it's a long time. He can't see the light level enough to figure out what time of day it is, and he can't stay awake long enough to sniff and listen and try to figure it out, so he doesn't have any real idea of what's happening. He's... not afraid, though. Well- not when he's awake. When he's sleeping, absolutely, there- there are still monsters stalking his dreams, but- 

Every time he wakes up, Milu is touching him. And normally that would scare him, but it doesn't  _hurt._ It... it feels good. Soft touches, gentle strokes, a bowl of broth pressed to his mouth as soon as he's awake enough to not choke... nothing he can bring himself to even be remotely nervous about. Just things that feel... oh. Incredible. 

And he's finally getting enough  _sleep._ He's exhausted, absolutely exhausted, probably from being  _sick,_ but he can  _sleep_ until he wakes up on his own and then he can go back to sleep again as soon as he wants. His pain is easing, he never wakes up to anyone trying to hurt him, and he's actually starting to feel  _good_ the second-to-last time he wakes.

 

 

And then, instead of just waking up for a couple of minutes and being half-asleep the entire time, he stirs his way awake, stays conscious, and slowly, slowly, pulls himself to his knees. 

He's  _thirsty._ That's the only thing he can think. He's so very thirsty. 

Somehow getting to his hooves, he staggers in the direction he's fairly certain the river is in for as long as he can manage, then collapses after just a few faltering steps. Choking back a snarl of dismay, he scrabbles weakly at the long grass, then stills when two gentle hands settle onto his shoulder. Oh. Milu. Maybe- maybe Milu can get him some water? Yes? Please? Whining, he turns his head towards the tiny medic and chokes out a raspy groan, pleading for something to drink. 

 

"Easy, easy- it's okay. You're thirsty, huh? Here, just- just be still, sweetie, Avalon's coming with some water. We have you. You're okay, I promise. Just relax... it's okay." the medic coos, gently stroking his head and neck until he settles down, then places a bowl in front of him and nudges his snout very gently into the water. "Here... drink. Slowly, okay? I'm not gonna take it away, you can have more as often as you want, but it'll make you feel kinda nasty if you drink too much right now. Steady, steady... deep breaths, but  _not_ with your face in the water. You're gonna be really weak for awhile, I'm afraid, but you're gonna be okay. Here, I'm- 'm gonna help you get your head out of the water a bit, okay? Ah- there. Breathe. Deep breaths. Nice, deep breaths. Let me hear your lungs, okay? And you need more air, probably. Big breaths. That's it... just like that. Good job." 

Milu leans on his ribcage for a moment or two, listening to his breathing, then lightly pats his shoulder and coos softly. "Good! Your breathing is still a little bit off, but it's much better, and you'll heal just fine. Now... I bet you're hungry. You want some fish? I know your mouth probably hurts, but fish is easy to chew. C'mon now... think you can get up?" he coaxes, then takes Vachel's head gently in both hands, trying to get him to his feet. "Come on- I know it's hard, but you'be been in pretty much this one spot for awhile. You gotta move." 

 

Okay. If it means he gets something to eat, then yes, he- he can try. And it takes some effort, he doesn't make it to his hooves on the first try, but he manages it- and he actually manages to stay upright, which he's slightly proud of. And  _then_ he actually manages to start walking. His head is low and he can hear his heartbeat thudding, but he's not collapsing, and- and he actually knows where to  _go,_ because there are delicate little hands on his arm, very gently coaxing, and everything is still long, soft grass and there's nothing for him to trip over. It's still  _hard,_ though, he's tired and he really just wants to collapse but  _oh_ that's a very interesting new smell. What... what is that? 

Intrigued, Vachel manages to walk just a bit further, then settles down near the source of the intriguing scent. Hm. Smells like cooked  _something,_ but he's not quite certain what it- 

Oh, is this what fish smells like when it's cooked? It's interesting. 

 

"Hey- you look a bit confused. Are you- oh, right, minotaurs don't really cook stuff very much, do you? Here- there are more precise ways to cook fish, but this should taste pretty decent. And, uh... would you be more comfortable eating with your hands, or just straight off a plate? Either one is fine." Milu hums, gently taking his hands and pressing a plate into them. "Go ahead... whatever feels safest. Promise it's okay." he croons, and to Vachel's surprise, he keeps that promise. 

 

Cringing slightly just in case he's about to be yelled at, Vachel hunches into himself and holds his meal very close, then just lowers his head and picks up a small piece of fish between his front teeth. He's... not sure it would end well if he tried to use his hands. He'd probably bite his fingers. This- this is an acceptable way to eat. He's half-expecting to be struck for it, or maybe referred to as an animal- but no, that doesn't happen. 

 

In fact, Milu sets a hand between his ears and rubs softly, making an approving sound. "Good! That's it, just- just eat. Not too fast, but eat. All of that. You need food." he coos, rubbing gently, then giggles when Vachel (cautiously) leans onto him for a moment and rumbles. "Aw. You're welcome! Now... you eat up, I'm gonna go sit with Avalon. He's... right over there, across the fire and just a bit to your left. Let me know if you'd like anything else to eat, okay? Or- actually, I guess you're basically sitting in a salad, aren't you? That's probably a better idea than giving you more fish, I'm guessing meadow grass is more towards what you'd usually eat." 

 

Yes, grass is probably more natural, but fish tastes good and he is  _not_ giving this up. Growling very softly at the idea of his meal being taken away, Vachel curls into a tighter ball and stares in Avalon's general direction, then continues eating- without chewing. At all. He's just going to finish his food as fast as possible before anyone can try to take it away, gulp it down in a few big bites. And then lick the plate. And then almost immediately shove his face into the grass and start eating, because he's  _hungry._ He's incredibly,  _painfully_ hungry, and he's going to eat as much as he can before anyone can try to haul him away from his meal. 

 

 

 

Once he's sure Vachel is comfortable and isn't choking on the meal he's just eaten in about ten seconds, Milu settles himself into Avalon's lap and leans back, sighing softly and watching the minotaur rip up grass like he's expecting to be dragged away from his meal at any moment. "Poor thing. He's so  _thin,_ I- I wouldn't have thought that a minotaur could even  _look_ like that. And he's all cut up, still, he's- he should be healing faster, but I guess he's just too tired. And his tail, his horns, his  _ears-_ those aren't gonna grow back, that- that isn't something anyone can fix. And I- I understand the horns, I guess, but- but the rest is just...  _cruel._ There's no reason for that. I... I wanna hold him, but he's- well, he's a lot bigger than me, and he's so  _scared,_ I- I don't want to upset him, I- eeh." 

 

Avalon nuzzles carefully into messy brown hair, huffing air through his mask, then rumbles approvingly when Milu giggles. There, that's- that's a bit better. He doesn't like seeing Milu sad, and it doesn't help anything, it just- just spreads the sad, that makes things worse. 

Carefully hugging the medic close against his chest, he settles his dragon's-hide cloak tighter around them both and attempts to distract Milu with a fish on a plate, then turns his attention to the minotaur again. That... is not a healthy being. Minotaurs ought to be powerful creatures with thick, shaggy fur, or at least thick fur if they're from the plains, but this poor thing has thin fur and clearly visible ribs. What had looked like a tannish-grey coloration had rinsed out under the waterfall, leaving what had probably once been a rich brown but was now faded and still looked a bit dirty, and his hide is covered in both old and new wounds. Minotaurs are usually large and loud and intimidating, Avalon doesn't usually like them, but this being cringes and stares blindly in his general direction whenever he moves and just looks so  _helpless._ It makes Avalon just want to hold the poor thing as close as possible and tuck his face in close and keep him safe from everything, but that- that seems like a good way to panic the poor thing even more. Partly because Avalon's lack of a proper voice and the minotaur's inability to see his gestures are not a good combination when it comes to communication. It's probably a good thing they have Milu to translate for them.

 

"We gotta help. More, I-I mean. Are- are you sure there isn't anything else you can do? What about his eyes?" Milu questions, setting the fish aside, then pulls the side of Avalon's coat away from his frame and ducks into a space the size of a small closet. Avalon's coat is enchanted, somehow, Milu's really not sure how, and this part is full of books. Pulling a small, glowing crystal out of a pocket, Milu runs it along the rows of books for a moment to read the titles, then pulls something out and ducks back out into the real world. "Here, this- didn't you tell me you can't figure out what a lot of these are? Let's see if there's anything good in here." 

 

Avalon hums softly in agreement, then returns his attention to the minotaur in front of him, not even bothering to try to read the book. He's trying to learn, and Milu is helping him, but he still can't read. In the past, he's translated recipes by comparing the words to the ones in a very detailed ingredient book (complete with pictures), and he remembers most of the techniques and roughly how the words look, but he's still not sure what the recipes in this particular book actually  _do._ Some of them say "Eye ______", but for all he knows, one of them might be "Eye Melter" or something of the sort. He's not willing to test it on anyone he doesn't hate, let alone someone who looks so  _defeated._ Those sightless eyes are closed now, and the lack of movable ears means that the unfortunate minotaur essentially doesn't have facial expressions, but even Avalon can tell that every bit of his body language is screaming (or, really, more like groaning) of pain and fear and silent desperation. 

 

 

After awhile, Milu grins and looks up at Avalon, lightly tapping a page of the book. "Look! I think this- this should- hang on, I better check." he mutters, slipping out of Avalon's back and approaching the minotaur as loudly as he can without it being threatening. "Hey there, sweetie. I'm not- not gonna make you stop eating, okay? Well, actually, you... uh... okay, I'll be honest." he sighs, sitting down right next to the minotaur and placing a hand gently on his shoulder. "I think you should stop now. You can keep eating later, but it won't be good for your stomach if you eat much more. Nobody's gonna take the meadow away, just... stop for awhile. Okay? I need to look at your face anyway." he croons, then smiles when the minotaur (slowly) obliges. "There we go, good. Now... can I see your eyes? I think we might have something we can do to help you. It might take a little while to put together the ingredients, but... at the very least, we should be able to make you more comfortable. Can I see?" 

Very slowly, he coaxes the now-trembling being's head around towards him, rubbing softly between maimed ears and trying to help him calm down. "It's okay, sweetie, it's- it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you, I- I just need to look at your eyes for a minute. I'm not gonna do anything, I- I promise, I just want to see if I can tell what's wrong with your eyes." he explains, accepting a small device when Avalon carefully hands it to him, then unfolds the thing near what's left of one of the minotaur's ears. "Hear that? It's a little folding thing with a couple of lenses, and I'm gonna use it to get a close look at your eyes and try to find out why you can't see. I'm gonna try to check if you have any scratches or anything across your eyes. I don't have to touch your eyes, I just... just have to hold your eyelids open for a few seconds. It might feel weird, but it doesn't hurt, I  _promise._ Let me see?" 

Clearly, the minotaur doesn't want to, but he very slowly settles his head against Milu's stomach. Shoulders hunched, clearly bracing himself, he shakily opens his eyes- and flinches the instant Milu touches him. Flinches even more as soon as a hand gets anywhere near his eyes. 

 _Oh, sweetie._ _I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry._ "Hey, sweetie... I  _promise_ I'm not gonna hurt you. I just can't see anything properly if you keep blinking. I know it's hard, and I know you're scared, but I won't  _hurt_ you." Milu whispers, then very, very gently holds one of the minotaur's eyes open for just long enough to get a look through the lenses. After a few seconds, he's done, and he rubs softly at what seems to be a good spot on the minotaur's head before moving to the other eye. "Just a second or two more... aaand... there. That's it, sweetie, I'm done. See? That- that wasn't so bad, was it? You're okay. You can back up if you want, now, or- oufh." 

He's cut off when the minotaur just about knocks him over, but he doesn't bother trying to resist- for one thing, he's not anywhere near strong enough. So he ends up sprawled on his back in the grass with a minotaur halfway on top of him, and- 

"Sweetie,  _no,_ are- are you- are you crying? Oh,  _sweetie,_ I'm- I'm sorry, did I- did I scare you? Or- or were you- oh. I... oh dear. Some- some of that damage looks like scratches or rub marks, but some of it is- it looks like you got something in your eyes that was bad for you. And you're... oh. Oh, no, did- did someone- someone did that on purpose, didn't they? Is- is that why you were scared of- of what I was doing? I'm- I'm sorry, sweetie, I- I didn't mean to upset you, I just- I thought maybe you'd calm down a bit if- if you realized that it wasn't going to hurt, but- oh, no, I-I made it worse, didn't I? Oh, sweetie, I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

Milu has had some practice hugging people who are far too large to really fit in his lap, and so he sits up as much as possible and tries very hard to gently hug the minotaur without seeming like he might pose a threat. "Okay, I- I'm gonna just... hold you for a minute, if- if that's alright. If it isn't, lemme know, okay? I won't be mad, I promise. You're allowed to tell me if you don't like things." 

 

Doing his absolute best to not be scary, Avalon creeps over and sits right behind Milu in order to support him a bit so he doesn't end up flat on his back again, slowly setting a hand on the minotaur's shoulder in an effort to help calm him. It doesn't seem to do much, so after a moment, he edges over and sits up against the minotaur's upper back, shielding him from anything that could possibly try to come after them. In an effort to explain that, he leans forwards and does his best to just tuck the minotaur's entire frame under his coat, which doesn't entirely work. He does come fairly close, though- much to the dismay of the person he's trying to protect, unfortunately. 

 

"Hey, hey, easy- it's okay. That's just Avalon, and he's- he's trying to help you, I promise. He has an enchantment or- or  _something_ of the sort on his coat, so he can fit way more into it than should really be possible. Including, possibly, you. Since you don't seem to like that, though, we're- we're not gonna try to fit you. It's alright, I promise! Just- just relax. Here... be still for a moment. Just breathe. Big breaths... try to calm down. I promise it's okay." Milu whispers, rubbing very, very gently behind the base of one sliced-off ear until the minotaur's panting and whining eases. "There... easy. I gotcha. Now... do you think you can focus on Avalon for a moment or two? Think about what he's doing. Does that... really seem like a threat?" 

 

Doing his absolute best to be soothing, Avalon leans forwards slightly and tucks his coat over the minotaur as much as possible, placing a hand on the scarred ribcage and essentially attempting to emulate a mother hen. He can't say anything to calm the poor thing, so he settles for humming softly and then trilling, though it... sounds very odd. It might not be as soothing as he'd like. 

 

 

 

At the sudden increase in contact, Vachel twitches slightly and makes a noise that could have been a frightened bellow if not for how  _quiet_ it is. It comes out as a strange noise something along the lines of a groan. He doesn't  _like_ this, he's- 

Oh. Wait a second, this- this feels- 

There... had been a cold breeze that was starting to bother him, and it's- it's gone. 

Avalon is blocking it. 

Slowly, Vachel raises his head and tries for a moment to listen to Avalon, then lowers his head again when he realizes that those aren't really... any sort of actual  _words._ Just sounds. Weird, weird sounds, but... they seem like they're... intended to be soothing. 

Avalon is  _scary,_ but that's- that's not a  _threat,_ it's... 

Slowly, Vachel tucks himself into a smaller ball, head in MIlu's lap and back pressed against the (surprisingly pleasant) warmth of Avalon's frame. This... this actually feels... nice. Really, really nice. And... 

Once he gets past his initial impression of  _power_ so close to him when he's feeling so  _vulnerable,_ Avalon's gentle touches are surprisingly pleasant. It... oh, this- this actually feels-

Vachel shifts abruptly, carefully wrapping both arms around Milu, and very gently pushes his face into the medic's stomach. He tries to make some sort of a grateful noise, but it comes out embarrassingly close to a calf's cry- and then, much to his dismay, the sound turns into a painful keening noise and he has to choke back a sob. Then another. And then he  _can't,_ not any more, and he- 

He can't stop. 

Well.

This is... embarrassing. 

But... nobody is laughing at him, nobody is lashing out or- or trying to do anything to him, or- 

Or, really, anything he's expecting. 

Instead, Avalon carefully begins to pet his chest, and Milu- 

Milu hugs him close and nuzzles into the back of his neck and  _croons_ to him, hugging him tight and whispering that it's  _okay,_ that he- he's  _safe,_ that it's okay for him to cry if it makes him feel better. And  _that_ just makes him cry harder, and he's not even sure  _why,_ and he- 

Suddenly bucking away from Milu with an indistinct bawling noise, Vachel pushes himself up onto his knees and raises his head as much as possible. Mouth falling open, he gives a soft, half-audible cry, then goes completely quiet at the feeling of a cool breeze across his face. The stumps of his ears perk up slightly, then he tilts his head back a bit further and sniffs the air, taking a few deep breaths of cool... clean... fresh air. Granted, it makes him cough a few times, but it's... good. There's no hood over his face, no rough hands on his muzzle, no metal ring wedged through his nose and being yanked around. His lungs are misbehaving a bit, but he can actually  _breathe._

Pointing his snout into the wind, he just slowly breathes for a few minutes, listening carefully to the sounds around him. No... no harsh  cursing, no painful screech of weapons being sharpened or sounds of orcs doing who  _knows_ what, just... crickets. And some kind of... frog? Bird? Something. It sounds... nice. Must be dusk, then. And... long meadow grass rustling in the breeze, swishing past him in waves, and- oh, wait, what- what is that? 

Attention caught by a rustling noise, he turns in what he hopes is the right direction, then looks back over his shoulder at where he thinks Avalon and Milu are. That- that's a noise. It sounds like it's... hm, it must be a small animal. Fox, maybe? Doesn't sound like it's too close, at least. He's not sure quite where it is, but... no, it's leaving. He's fine. 

He's... something a bit more than fine, isn't he? 

He's  _free._ Whatever Milu and Avalon have planned for him (and he's genuinely starting to wonder if he that might not be so unpleasant), for the moment, he's free. No one is holding him down or trapping him anywhere, there are no ropes or halters or bindings of any kind on him, there's nothing over his face- in fact, the only things he's wearing are the bandages protecting his ankles. 

One deep breath in...

Hold for a moment... 

And then, slowly, breathe out. 

He's surrounded by what sounds like quite a large field of deep grass, and since it's dusk, there's no sun to hurt his eyes when they ease open. Nothing is holding him, nothing is restricting him, he's... free. 

Slowly, very slowly, he pushes himself to his feet. Rumbling softly, he glances back at where he thinks Milu and Avalon are, then takes one careful step forwards. He doesn't think he can move very fast right now, but he wants to go somewhere, please. He's actually free to go wherever he'd like, and right now he wants to go... that way. He can't hear trees rustling in that direction, so it's probably open meadow. 

 

"Hey, hey, where- oh, you wanna go somewhere? Alright, then, just- here. Avalon's gotta pack up, but I'm gonna come with you, alright? Right behind ya, don't spook, I'm just catching up." Milu calls, then gently touches his arm before carefully taking his hand. "There we go. Avalon is gonna get everything gathered up, and then he'll catch up. You keep going, but... slowly, okay? I don't know how fast minotaurs recover from things, but you definitely aren't in good shape. I'd help you if you weren't twice my size, so... walk carefully, okay? I won't be able to catch you if you trip." 

 

Okay. Huffing softly in acknowledgement, Vachel very gently squeezes Milu's hand, then keeps going- slowly, yes, but steadily. He's had to walk when he's exhausted, starving, and absolutely does not want to, but now, he actually  _wants_ to. Still doesn't feel great, but at least he has a full stomach and he's had some rest. And now, he actually wants to move. So it's hard, yes, but he can  _do_ this. 

 

 

And he's impressed with how far he manages to get. There are different sounds when he finally stops, different animals and a soft noise of water nearby, and there's moss under his hooves when he stops. Tilting his head back slightly, he scents the air for any signs of anything dangerous, then rumbles quietly and carefully kneels again. Slowly lowering himself, he scents at the moss for a few seconds, then carefully lies down and nuzzles into the wet ferns he can smell near his face. Delicately nipping the tips from a few ferns, he gathers a mouthful of soft leaves to chew on, then lowers his head and relaxes. There. This- this is a good spot to rest. 

 

"You done? I'm impressed... you got really far, I thought you'd get tired sooner. Now... if you're okay with it, I'm gonna check you over and be sure you didn't reopen anything. I think now is a good time to rest for awhile, maybe sleep, and then... well, I think we should find someone to get a look at your hooves. I don't know what to do about that nail or how to tell if your hooves are in good shape at all, so I wanna find an expert. Avalon's map says there's a town near here, so we can see if there's a farrier. I know you probably don't like that idea, but..." Milu sighs, settling right near him, then very gently places a hand on his arm as he continues, "really, I'm worried. I promise I'll find someone nice... I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you, and I'm- I'm not gonna let anyone try to put any sort of shoe on you, I know you wouldn't like that. I just wanna help you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there anything in particular that Avalon and Milu might need to clarify that Vachel can't see?

**Author's Note:**

> Milu (little guy) is maybe 5' 2" and probably 120lbs soaking wet. He's not absolutely tiny, but our unfortunate minotaur comes from a species where the smallest males are around 6', the females almost all hit at least 7', and even the leanest ones are stronger than most humans. Compared to even young minotaurs, Milu is tiny and adorable.


End file.
